MGK'S 'LOST AMERICANA' IS NOT GOOD

If you cast your mind back to the dewey slopes of about five years ago, if you asked me who one of my favourite musicians was, Machine Gun Kelley would be on that list. After the release of Tickets to my Downfall I was caught up in the pop-punk revival, and really dug the new record. I played it relentlessly, and gabbed about it to anyone that would listen - these days however, I look back on that obsession and can't help but cringe. Now dubbed MGK, his brand new record has dropped 'Lost Americana' , fit to bursting with enough classic American imagery to make any true red white and blue bleeding folks fall over their Harley Davidsons and comb their quiffs out of their eyes. What was promised to be a nostalgic look into music's past ended up being... well, have a read and find out.

What you get when you listen to Lost Americana is - in short - terrible rehashings of classic rock and country ballads with a healthy dose of MGK's nihilistic take on how much he fucked up his own life. Taking pieces from The Who, Guns 'N' Roses and even The Goo Goo Dolls, this album aims at the nostalgic centre of our cultural zeitgeist, but instead paves itself into a deeply cringe, and almost worryingly self loathing place that leaves you confused, irritated, and quite frankly shocked.

MGK is well known for committing to the bit - I mean the man made a pop punk record, and upon hearing how much people hated it, went and made another just for the shits and giggles. This album cycle is no different, the Marlboro jacket, the motorbikes, picket fences and the permed haircut - but when your trying to create a feel, and really recreate that feeling, then you can't undercut it with defeatist lyrics about how you've gone and screwed up your relationship with Meghan Fox. Don't get me wrong, a lot of amazing classic stadium rock tracks are about the breakdowns of relationships - but this record keeps beating the dead horse over and over again, with it spitting out nothing more than half arsed words like:

'Let's leave this town, get married, go to Vegas, and create nostalgia'

'Lately people talk like I don't have a brain, but both my ears hear all the words'

'I feel confined by societal norms, I was born to walk the line'

'Living fantasy like J.K. Rowling, I'm J.R.R Tolkein these spliffs, I love smoking'

There's so much telling, so many misfires on his dark persona, his issues with relationships, drink, drugs - all to classic rock instrumentation. It really doesn't work tonally, or conceptually on any level at all, and makes for a frankly painful 45 minute runtime of clashing theme and ideology.

There are however a few things that are quite good. The production is clean, and I can stomach Cliché on a few go arounds as a decent pop anthem, even with the cringe lyricism. Plus I respect MGK for trying something new. He was never going to do the same thing forever, and his change from rap to punk rock and now to pop-rock is another testament to his willingness to grow and change as a musician. Sure, this album is arguably a pretty vapid attempt, but you have to admire the balls on the guy to do something that's once again so out of left field. It also has some crushingly emotional moments, not just it's one sided 'i suck' ones - the latter end of this record allows itself to go to a pretty dark place, and once again that willingness to be honest with this lyrics is something to commend, and makes up for the best parts of this album by a long shot. He goes from rapping about weed with terrible author puns to reflecting and inserting himself into the Greek tragedy of Orpheus - talk about whiplash.

However, I have to be honest, and honestly, this record is really quite bad. Fuelled on nostalgia to an unbearably cliché point, this record falls at it's own first hurdle, and continues to make stumbling move after stumbling move. Full of lyrical misfires and more identity crises than you can shake a stick at, Lost Americana is indeed lost in a quagmire of it's own viability against the landscape. It's an exercise in transformation, and by that I mean it's a well known artist taking classic songs, putting a very ugly coat of paint on them, and pebble dashing that with some of the most insanely cringe lyrics I've ever heard. Although the final tracks are heartfelt, they feel like a drop in the ocean of what is otherwise a lacklustre swing at pop-rock mediocrity - and I reckon it's safe to say I won't be revisiting this one again any time soon.